Ren Tai swept the temple courtyard long after the disciples had left. He was like moonlight shaped into flesh — too beautiful for a world that despised him. Eyes gray like silent storms, deep and unreadable. Hair black as ink, with a few wild strands defying order, and skin like porcelain left untouched by sun or sin. He rarely spoke, but when he did, silence seemed to linger longer afterward — as if the world paused to hear a man it had long forgotten.
The wind stirred lightly, mixing with the soft scent of fallen plum blossoms. The moonlight washed over the Mirror Moon Sect's mountain peak, silver and silent. It was a peaceful night — except for the celebration echoing through the inner pavilions.
Sarah's promotion banquet.
She was being honored as one of the youngest Core Disciples in the sect's history. Applause, music, and lantern-light filled the grand hall. Nobles and cultivators gathered to congratulate her, including a visiting young master from the ThunderPeak Sect.
Ren Tai was not invited. Of course.
He moved the broom slowly, methodically — his hands practiced, his eyes dull. The son of a disgraced elder, he had long been reduced to a servant in the sect. No one spoke his name with respect. Many whispered that he should have been executed years ago.
Why Wasn't He Killed?
When his father was condemned for treason and killed, many had argued that Ren Tai, the bastard son, should be executed as well — to erase the bloodline and avoid future trouble. But the sect had hesitated.
Some feared divine retribution. In the cultivation world, killing the innocent descendant of a possibly falsely accused man could provoke the wrath of the heavens. Misfortune, qi deviation, and karmic backlash were real concerns.
Others felt that death was too kind. "Let the Screaming Abyss handle what our blades need not stain," an elder had said.
So they let him live but stripped him of name, standing, and hope.
That evening, after his duties, Ren Tai knelt beneath an old plum tree and unwrapped a battered iron cauldron — nothing more than scrap metal to others, but sacred in his hands.
From a pouch, he drew out a withered Moon Lotus Flower and other mostly damaged but relatively useful medicinal plants, discarded by outer sect alchemists. Worthless, supposedly. But to Ren Tai, it was more than enough.
He worked in silence, guiding qi gently through the mostly ruined cauldron. His hands were steady. His technique, unseen by any master, was refined by memory and intuition alone.
Moments later, a faint glow rose from the cauldron. Steam curled upward. A single delicate Moon Lotus Pill took form perfect in shape and radiating a subtle medicinal aura. The Moon Lotus pill was a Peak-tier 1 star pill known for helping in making Qi gentler during breakthroughs.
Ren Tai gazed at it quietly his face pale but satisfied, then wrapped it in clean silk.
He wasn't an alchemist. Not officially. But his comprehension—his understanding of essence and flow—was unmatched. Even he didn't fully grasp how he could do such things.
Later, at the edge of the banquet pavilion, Ren Tai waited as Sarah stepped out onto the moonlit terrace.
She looked radiant in violet robes, adorned with the new insignia of a Core Disciple radiating the aura of at the Peak of Qi condensation. At her side stood Valthor the ThunderPeak sects young master — tall, powerful, smiling arrogantly as if the world had already promised itself to him. When he sighted Ren Tai his face darkened slightly before going back to normal.
Ren stepped forward and held out the small silk bundle.
"I made something for you," he said simply.
Sarah blinked. Her eyes softened for just a moment — then hardened.
"You shouldn't be here, Ren," she said, glancing around.
"I know."
Her voice dropped. "Things have changed. I have responsibilities. He — he's from a high-tier sect. This alliance could raise our entire sect's status."
Ren Tai's hands trembled, but his voice was quiet.
"So I'm the cost?" "You have nothing to offer," she said softly, almost guiltily. "We're not part of the same world anymore."
He wanted to tell her everything: his love for her, his dreams, the truths he'd never shared. But the words lodged in his throat. They always did.
Sarah turned and walked away without accepting the gift. Valthor looked at Ren Tai with a smile on his face but there was something about it that made Ren Tai's hair stand on end, Ren Tai eventually didn't think much of it as his mind was occupied what happened between him and Sarah.
Ren Tai walked back to his lodging — listless and heartbroken.
Three days later, Ren Tai was dragged before the sect elders.
The young master claimed that Ren Tai had attempted to assault Sarah in a fit of rage and desperation. The accusation spread like wildfire.
Sarah did not speak in his defense.
Before the entire sect, they shattered Ren Tai's dantian, ruptured his meridians, and cast him out. They stripped his name from the records.
But they didn't kill him.
They carried his broken body to the edge of the Screaming Abyss — a cursed chasm said to devour mind and soul alike.
"This way," Elder Xu said with a sneer, "we let the Abyss decide his fate. Let the heavens judge through silence."
Then they threw him in.
Ren Tai plummeted into endless blackness, the last sound he heard being his own breath — ragged, shallow, and fading.
And then, silence.